


Reflection

by shonn



Series: Repetition [18]
Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:54:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21930046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shonn/pseuds/shonn
Summary: “We haven’t been thinking for awhile now,” Abbey said.
Relationships: Abbey Bartlet/C. J. Cregg
Series: Repetition [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/32081
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILERS/NOTES: This installment is set during “Faith Based Initiative” (6.10) and then moves into “365” (6.12) and “The Wake Up Call” (6.14). 
> 
> Note: I've included more of the actual episodic dialogue than I normally would, but I did so in an effort to give you, dear readers, as much context as possible. I know it's probably been a while since some of you have watched the show.

**“Faith Based Initiative”**

C.J. hit her alarm with a groan and then rolled over to stare at her ceiling. She had been in the middle of a really good dream, and she closed her eyes as the memory started to fade. No matter. She could still recall in perfect clarity the way Abbey's skin felt against her own. It had been a month – 34 days to be exact – since she and Abbey had slept together, but C.J. could remember every second of their encounter. Those few hours haunted her. If only... She sighed as she forced herself to get out of bed, pushing away the thoughts she shouldn't have and trying to focus on those she was allowed. 

She got dressed and was brushing her teeth when her phone started buzzing. Her days got going earlier and earlier, so she wasn't surprised until she read the headlines. She could see the disbelief on her face reflected in the mirror.

“Oh, my God,” she said aloud to herself as she continued to scroll. “Are you kidding me?!” 

The memories of her dream suddenly came back to her in full color. 

“Damn.”

***

As C.J. headed into work, her thoughts were jumbled. One question kept circulating through her mind: Had they been discovered? Was that why the press was suddenly interested in C.J.'s sexuality? Had someone found out she was having an affair with Abbey and was leaking just enough to push the corps into investigating? Or was she just being paranoid?

As soon as Margaret met her at the door of the West Wing, C.J. asked about Tommy. Deflection seemed like the way to go, but she felt guilt niggling at her. She pushed it aside to focus on her job. She knew she was going to need her thick skin to get through her day. She had to address her staff soon, and then later, she would see Abbey. 

Even though they had seen each other regularly in the previous weeks, they hadn't spoken privately since their night together. It was too hard. The president's condition wasn't stable, and neither woman was dealing with what they had done to him very well. It wasn't regret, C.J. knew, but remorse, and she couldn't help remembering a conversation between her and Abbey years before about that very subject. 

C.J. sighed and shook her head. Margaret was still talking, and C.J. needed to shift her attention. She would be face to face with Abbey soon enough.

***

C.J. slipped into the meeting with the president's doctor as unobtrusively as she could, tuning into the medical jargon in an effort to concentrate on what was being said instead of the woman sitting a few feet away. It was a difficult feat, memories of their night together playing in her mind at every opportunity even as they discussed the health of the man they both adored.

C.J. glanced in Abbey's direction, but the first lady steadily ignored her. C.J. tried not to be offended. She could see the guilt written all over Abbey, hidden well behind the worry that also seemed to have taken over the normally unflappable woman. C.J. had to resist the temptation to hug Abbey, to pull the woman to her and never let go. As the gathering came to an end, she watched from her seat as Abbey made her way toward the door. 

Abbey didn't look back.

***

She needed guidance. Even the press secretary inside her was confused on how to handle the rumors circulating about her sexuality. The person she would normally go to was the one person she couldn't talk to. So, in an effort to get her head back in order, she headed to Leo's office.

“You getting through all the files?”

Leo didn't even look up. “Yeah, I'm almost up to the Hoover administration.” 

“Did Margaret give you call sheets for the conferees?” 

“Yep. I spoke to McKenna. He's fine on the education offsets.”

“Figured you just had a heart attack. They had to take your call,” she joked. 

“Whatever it takes.”

“Drives me crazy when they use the budget as a social soapbox.”

“It's a popular issue. No one wants to be the first one to line up against it. If you live your life underneath a magnifying glass, you tend to stay away from the heat. How you holding up?”

“Feeling a little over-interpreted,” she answered without thinking.

“The Internet thing.”

“Am I wrong to wanna set the record straight, no pun intended?”

“When I was labor secretary, the National Enquirer ran a story that I'd married Elizabeth Taylor while skydiving over New Mexico.”

C.J. shrugged as she took a seat across from Leo. 

“I'm a heterosexual,” she blurted and then cringed. “I don't know why I just said that except, as of today, I'm the most famous - not famous but apparently the most powerful - lesbian on the planet.”

C.J. was aware she was rambling, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. She wasn't sure Leo was even listening. Still, she felt she needed to explain, so she continued without a breath. 

“And the fact of the matter is I'm absolutely crazy about this man I just met and had two fabulous dinners with in the space of one week. A man who hasn't had the courteous to call me today probably because he's of the undependable gender or maybe he has even less of an idea about how to deal with my alleged and fictitious lesbianism than I do. So, he'll just remain silent like a submarine under the icecap and drift away. Just like the legion of other cowards whom I spent my life staring at the phone panting like an exquisite collie hoping for table scraps until I became successful and started to scare them with the very independence they required me to have so that now I'm looking at some bad numbers, really rough stuff, if you know what I'm talking about. But what was I supposed to do? Turn down an opportunity to serve the president who I believe in and adore? You just wanna share it with someone, you know?”

Leo looked decidedly uncomfortable and said, “So, if you wanna send more call sheets...”

“Sure. No, that'd be a great idea.” C.J. paused. “I need you to stay, Leo. So does the president.” 

“C.J.,” Margaret said, appearing out of nowhere over C.J.'s shoulder. “Toby needs you.”

All C.J. could do was nod and follow.

***

Toby started in as soon as C.J. joined him in her office. She was only half paying attention.

“Wilkinson won't move, the vice president has chosen this moment to find his noble core, and I think Hoynes may be behind this whole thing.”

Her head snapped up at the name. “Hoynes?” All of her indiscretions were coming up today.

“We have to put the president with Wilkinson.”

“That's not gonna happen. How's Hoynes involved?”

“Doesn't matter. The president has to threaten a veto to get this off the bill.”

“President's not ready to veto,” she said exasperatedly. 

“You told him not to.”

“I'm not willing to sink the budget.”

“Over your dating life.”

“No, over an empty gesture that's gonna be struck down by the courts.”

“So that's what we're gonna do. Pass the buck and pray for judicial restraint. President's resting. We can't haul him down when we can't do what he asked. You're afraid to address it because it'll call attention to this garbage they're running.”

“No, I'm too busy composing my letter to the editor of _Soap Opera Digest_.”

“Josh is thinking of leaving.”

“What?”

“To help Matt Santos run for president.”

“The congressman from Texas?”

“Leo's gone. Josh has a foot out the door. It's you and I; we're gonna have to run this thing. We gonna stand for something or just change the sheets for the president's hospital bed?”

“We fight an amendment with no practical impact and massive popular support?”

“Yes, we should fight it.”

“Fight the symbol?”

“Yes. Symbols matter. If they didn't, why would you care what they say on the Internet?”

***

C.J. walked into the press bullpen, her statement about her sexuality in her hands. It felt more weighted than a thin piece of paper, and she began speaking before any questions could be hurled her way.

“Hey, I just wanted to tell you guys that the Sanctity of Marriage Act's been removed from the budget at the president's urging. The conferees are moving towards a clean budget bill. It should be on the president's desk by tomorrow.”

“Are we on the record here?”

C.J. shrugged. “Sure. What the hell.” 

“Are you a homosexual?”

She took a deep breath and glanced at the words Annabeth had spent the day preparing, and then she thought of Abbey and folded the document in half.

“You know what? I spent the last fourteen hours being snickered at by United States senators, being ostracized on the World Wide Web, having my own colleagues question my ability to do my job, and I let it get to me. So, I don't think it really matters whether I'm gay or straight or just the best damn women's basketball player in Ohio Valley history. No one should be treated this way.”

“You didn't answer the question.”

“That's right. Because it's none of your business.” 

C.J. ripped her statement up as she returned to her office and sank into her chair. She thought back to her conversations with Leo and Toby earlier in the day. Was Toby right? Was she afraid of someone questioning her attractions? She wasn't a lesbian. She couldn't be, yet she yearned for a woman. 

One particular woman.

She reached for the basketball shoe that Tommy had sent her. She had enjoyed her time with him, but she knew he wouldn't last. No matter how sweet and funny he was he would never fit into her life. Very few people did. 

Abbey was one of them. Despite their situation, Abbey blended perfectly into C.J.'s professional and personal lives. They had a balance between the public and private personas. That's what C.J. needed. She thought back to that morning when she was afraid their relationship had been discovered. That Abbey was a woman hadn't bothered C.J. 

She checked the time and thought about what she needed to do. Standing and shutting the door, she knew she needed to tell Tommy some version of the truth and cancel whatever plans he had set. She did that first, and the call was short and she tried to be appropriately apologetic, but as soon as he hung up, she dialed an all-too familiar number. Abbey answered after two rings.

“Yes?”

C.J.was relieved for reasons she didn't completely understand. “Hey.”

She heard the softest sigh and then Abbey's cottony, “Claudia Jean.”

C.J. had to sit down at the sound of her name in that tone. “God, I love when you say my name like that,” she said before she could stop herself. Silence prevailed. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I just...” She felt tears prickle at her eyelids. She cleared her throat. “I needed to hear your voice.”

“Rough day?”

“Interesting at least.” C.J. tried to stop the words, but then she heard herself ask, “When can I see you?”

Another sigh, this one laced with frustration. “He’s here. Asleep. Next to me.”

“I...yes, of course. I didn’t think.”

“C.J., we can’t…”

“I know! I...I know. I just didn’t think.”

“We haven’t been thinking for awhile now,” Abbey said. Her tone gentled as she added, “Go home. Get some rest.”

C.J. nodded even though Abbey couldn’t see her, but she didn’t trust herself not to cry.

“C.J.?”

“Yeah?” Her voice cracked.

“I'm sorry, too.”

**********

**“365 Days”**

C.J. stepped back into the shadows of her office, the echoing applause from President Bartlet's last State of the Union reverberating in her head. She knew she should be doing something – at the very least paying attention to the president as he made his way through the crowd to the Oval. Instead, her eyes followed Abbey. 

They had only spoken to each other in passing about work-related issues since the phone call a few weeks before – the phone call when Abbey had reminded them both what they were doing was wrong and why. 

Until that moment, C.J. never would have thought she needed a reminder, yet she had come close to asking Abbey to slip from her husband's bed to come to C.J.'s.

“You look beautiful,” Abbey said. C.J. smiled, a pop of surprise flashing across her features, as she looked up to find Abbey lingering in her doorway.

“So do you.” C.J. leaned against her desk and looked Abbey up and down slowly. “Gorgeous.”

Abbey didn't respond but made her way around the room, shutting and locking the three doors that lead into C.J.'s office. 

“I shouldn't be here,” she said as she neared C.J. “But I couldn't seem to stay away.”

C.J. was afraid to speak, afraid whatever she would say would drive Abbey to leave. C.J. reached for her, grabbing her wrist in a hold tighter than she intended. Abbey stared at the hand wrapped around her arm before bringing her gaze up to C.J.'s.

“You could be arrested for touching me like that,” she said brittlely but with warmth in her eyes.

“I'll take my chances,” C.J. said. Taking a step forward, she brought her free hand up to caress Abbey's cheek. “I'm going to die if I don't kiss you soon.”

Abbey's demeanor softened, and she melted against C.J.'s body as she tilted her head up to meet C.J.'s lips. A sigh escaped C.J.'s mouth before she pressed closer to deepen the kiss. She felt Abbey's hands at her waist, slipping under her jacket and bringing them fully together. When Abbey pulled back, she rested her forehead against C.J.'s collarbone.

“We can't keep doing this, C.J.”

C.J. closed her eyes and tightened her grasp. “Just a few more minutes,” she whispered. C.J. felt Abbey nod, but she never opened her eyes – even after Abbey tugged away and left.

**********

**“Wake Up Call”**

It was not even 5 a.m. when C.J. finally made it to her office after her rude awakening at 3:45. She wasn't exactly refreshed, but she at least managed a few hours of sleep. She had needed it. She was working herself to exhaustion on a frequent basis now just to achieve those few hours. It had been eleven weeks since she and Abbey had slept together, and C.J. had spent every one of them in turmoil. Abbey was always there when C.J. closed her eyes. She could remember – and did – every detail of the other woman's body: the way she moved, felt, tasted, sounded. It was both intoxicating and excruciating. But, the worst part, if there could be only one, was C.J.'s total lack of regret. She even knew she would do it again if the opportunity ever arose. She would make love to Abbey a million times if she could, and she'd stand by the president's side the next morning with no remorse. She hated herself for that. 

Turning her attention to the timepiece on the wall, C.J. stared at the clock hard, like it was the cause of her all of her misery. She knew she had a call to make, but she hesitated. Although she and Abbey had spoken sporadically in the last two months, their private conversations had been almost stilted. C.J. had not known what to say and suspected Abbey had the same problem. 

“'ello?”

C.J. sighed. “Hello, ma'am.”

“C.J.? What's wrong? What time is it?”

C.J. could hear Abbey sitting up in bed. “It's 4:11, and there's a situation. I think I need to wake the president.”

“Now? The world better be coming to an end. He's only been asleep for a few hours.”

“I know, ma'am. I'm sorry, but a British passenger plane has been shot down by what we think is an Iranian fighter jet.”

“You think?” C.J. winced at the hostility in Abbey's tone. “You're not waking him until you know.”

Abbey's normally husky voice was even smokier sleep tinged, and C.J. had to close her eyes in an effort not to moan. She longed to crawl into bed with Abbey and hold her close, kiss those undoubtedly pouty lips and slip the silk pajamas off that toned body. 

“C.J.?”

At the sharp insistence of her name, the CoS snapped back to attention. “Oh, yes. I'm here. Sorry. Got lost for a minute. I, uh, I'll...It can wait. Let him sleep for a while longer.”

“Good,” Abbey said and then disconnected. C.J. stared at the phone in her hand for a long moment as if she could see through it to the woman who had been on the other end of the line. 

“I'm in so much trouble,” she whispered before replacing the receiver and trying to concentrate on the other matters at hand all the while asking herself how she could stop a world war at the same time her world was crumbling at her feet.

***

C.J. knew Kate would follow her out of the Situation Room without being told, but she also suspected a conversation she didn't want to have was about to take place. 

Sure enough, Kate asked, “Did the president get into it with Prime Minister Graty?”

“He wasn't on the call,” C.J. hedged. “She got pretty hepped up all by her lonesome.”

“Well, state's been conducting secret talks with the Iranians on their nuclear program.”

“We've been making progress.”

“It's a fragile conversation. If Iran's involved and Graty makes this a thing...”

“I put in a call to Chet. Do you find it odd calling a high-ranking Iranian official Chet?”

“Well, it's easier to say than Asefi Hossein Kamal Bin Hamid.”

C.J. nodded. “Man, I'm fried,” she said, hoping to derail the previous direction of their talk.

“Up late last night?”

“Ten part lecture on the future of democracy in Belarus.”

“Democracy? The last guy scraped term limits and made his political opposition disappear. Literally.”

“Why they've asked for help.”

“C.J.,” Kate said, forcing the CoS to stop walking to look at the other woman. “Prime Minister Graty, she tends to overreact.”

“She's a runaway train.”

“The president usually likes a heads-up if she's making decisions with international ramifications.”

For just a second, C.J. contemplated telling Kate about the phone call with Abbey earlier that morning. Instead, she said, “He'll be awake in a few hours. Make sure I get those updates.” She walked away, barely hearing Kate's whispered response.

“Yes, ma'am.”

***

Hours later, C.J. was so focused on what she was saying to Kate that she didn't even notice Abbey as she and the commander made their way into C.J.'s office. When she glanced at the chairs in front of her desk, her surprise was evident. Normally, she would have loved the impromptu visit, and a visual of what she and Abbey could do behind closed doors popped unbidden into her mind, yet she was cognizant of Kate's presence when she addressed the first lady.

“Mrs. Bartlet.”

“Hello there.”

“Did you just get in?”

“About half an hour ago. Around the time I noticed my husband wasn't in bed. I checked the bathroom, the sitting room. He was nowhere to be found. I get a little nervous. My husband's not the healthiest guy, you know, so I call Curtis. He tells me the president's in the Oval. Can you imagine my surprise?” 

C.J. internally sighed. She didn't like Abbey's tone. “There was a development,” she said unnecessarily.

“You do remember waking me at 4 a.m.?”

“Ma'am...”

“We agreed to let him sleep.”

“I let him sleep until I couldn't let him anymore,” C.J. said, a hint of annoyance slipping in. As C.J. and Abbey regarded each other, she wished they were alone.

“How late was he up last night?” Abbey finally asked. 

“Ma'am, I let him sleep as long as I could.”

C.J. was getting used to watching Abbey leave.

***

Abbey rolled her eyes as she heard Lord John Marbury expounding on whatever topic was that moment's crisis. Frankly, she didn't care.

“Abigail! Blanket my loins, I'm tied to the stake.”

She heard Jed say, “Here we go.” 

“Lovely to see you, John,” Abbey said, her most fake smile firmly in place. It almost fell when she noticed C.J. wasn't there.

“So many distractions, Mr. President. How do you get anything done?”

“God only knows.”

“Where's C.J.?”

“With Secretary Hutchinson,” Kate answered, and Abbey realized how frequently she ignored the blonde woman. Well, not now. It was probably best C.J. was absent.

“May I have Kate for a minute?”

John practically bowed. “Tarry not long, gentle courtesan.”

Abbey trusted the commander to follow her. She did not expect Kate to be so friendly as she said, “Did he just call me a...?”

“Isn't he delightful?” Abbey said, not bothering to let Kate finish her question.

“Yeah.”

“The president needs a break.”

“Okay.”

“He was up late last night,” Abbey explained. “He was up early this morning. He needs a break.”

“Well, we've got the French ambassador and then the Iranian, but maybe...”

“I mean now.” 

Kate hesitated at the first lady's show of attitude. “Maybe I should just check with C.J.”

“You could do that. Or you could go back in there and get my husband,” Abbey demanded. She could see Kate struggling about what to do, and she, however unwisely, wished for C.J.

Kate relented. “Yes, ma'am.”

***

C.J. hesitated before making her way into the sitting room where Abbey was working. She wanted nothing more than to talk to the other woman without the trappings of her position, but Abbey had made it clear throughout the day that Jed Bartlet's wife was in control. So, taking a deep breath, C.J. barreled ahead with her mission.

“Excuse me. Do you have a minute, ma'am?”

“I sent him back to work,” Abbey said, never looking up at C.J.

“Yes, I saw him. Thank you. Ma'am, I can't have you confusing my staff.”

“Okay.”

“If you have a question, a concern, I need you to come to me.”

“What if I can't find you?”

C.J. paused, a million replies flying through her head. She settled for a simple but firm: “Find me.”

“You gonna take away my key to the executive washroom, too?” 

Abbey knew she was being purposely difficult and that C.J. didn't deserve it, but she also couldn't prevent it. Her response was both a defense and an offense. It kept her from reaching out to C.J., from smoothing the lines from C.J.'s forehead and kissing away the frown from C.J.'s mouth. She had to remember her priorities. 

“Ma'am, I made a mistake this morning,” C.J. said haltingly, and Abbey hated the sound.

“He needed to sleep.”

“Yes, I agree with you. The mistake was not making the decision on my own.”

“You can't make these decisions by yourself.”

“I'm the chief of staff.”

“You're not a doctor.”

“It's not a medical decision. It's a question as to whether the leader of this country needs to be informed about something that puts the citizens of this country in jeopardy. What he does with that, how he manages his disease...Those are his decisions.”

“He was up until midnight. He's not managing his disease.”

“You're gonna have to take that up with him, ma'am.” C.J. wanted to say more, so much more, but when her beeper sounded, she knew it would have to wait. “I'm sorry. Excuse me,” she mumbled before making a hasty retreat. She didn't notice Abbey watching her leave.

***

Even through the shut door, C.J. could hear the Bartlets arguing. She tried to ignore it, but the angry words were ricocheting around the room. She knew she was privy to something very few had ever witnessed and that her presence in their lives – in Abbey's life – was making the situation worse. She understood that now. Abbey, overprotective in the best of times, was allowing her guilt to overshadow her diplomacy. C.J. had been observing it happen but had been too selfish to realize the consequences were much more far reaching than just stolen moments and long kisses. They had been careful, she reflected, of everything but their hearts. She wondered if there was anything to be done about it now.


End file.
